Breaking Destiny
by SparklingTears
Summary: When Kristy revisits the site of her childhood fears trying to rid herself of nightmares, she finds love & an ancient fairtale stranger and more precious than anything she knows. But what should she do when this fragile cursed romance threatens to shatter
1. The memory

_"You know what, little girl? I hate your father's guts."_

_That cold menacing voice again. She shuddered as she saw the massive silhouette of him against the cold dark mists of the night, the whip in his thick rough fingers slithering like a python. _

_Crack!_

_The knifed edge of the whip tore at her shirt, slicing cloth and flesh alike. _

_Pain! Oh, how much it hurt! She struggled, twisting her wrists around the tight nylon rope, feeling the scratchy coarse rope scraping painfully at her raw ankles._

_She felt tears of desperation fog her vision._

_"Please… please…" She pleaded, closing her eyes against the pain._

_"That's right, little girl, beg! Your father never gave me a chance, no matter how much I begged, that fcking son-of-a-btch."_

_Crack!_

_She bit her lip, trying to suppress the immense urge to scream. The whip tore her sleeve; she could feel it, the cold wetness of her blood soaking into her ragged clothes. Lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, she silently cried, watching her tears drop onto the dirty dusty floor. Who would save her from this desolated abandoned mansion, from its cracked grime-covered windows and this horrid, cruel man?_

_"Your father's going to get his retribution, no matter" The monster leered, "I'm going to destroy his family, just like he destroyed mine."_

_As if caught in a surge of sudden anger, he roared furiously._

"_I'M GONNA DESTROY HIM!"_

_CRACK!_

_The searing pain numbed her right shoulder. She choked back a cry, silently feeling her tears flow down her cheeks._

_"You're too scared to speak, little girl?" He seethed, "No matter, you ought to be, anyway. You're going to die tonight, you know?"_

_His cruel laughter echoed around the walls of the empty mansion._

_She lifted her eyes slowly, fearfully. In his hands, a knife had replaced the whip. A dull, heavy, butcher's knife. Against the dim moonlight, the on the monster's face changed to one of wild ecstasy as his fingers tightened on the handle of the knife. The lopsided grin on his face grew brutish as he lifted his arm. The muscles tightened, his jaw hardened, the small eyes narrowed into slits… _

_All of a sudden, a figure flashed from the other side of the room. It was another man. Paralyzed by fear, she saw a tall lean silhouette of another man at the entrance of the shadowed hall. He was holding knives, a lot of knives, as he dived towards them. His savage howl faded into fogginess as she felt her vision dim. _

_The room spun and she spiraled into unconsciousness._

_The last thing she remembered was a flash of the other man's face, the grisly sound of knives being plunged into flesh, and the spurt of blood that sprayed from the monster's chest._


	2. The decision

I woke up with a gasp of fear, drenched in cold sweat, my fingers entwined tightly into the bed sheets. I felt my heart hammering painfully in my chest.

It was that nightmare again.

Even after so many years, I still could not let go of it.

It was my first brush with death, and sure it left its impact.

I laughed bitterly, feeling the pent up tension expanding inside me.

I forced myself to take two deep breaths and lifted a hand to wipe off the sweat on my forehead. My fingers were still feeling numb.

Combing them through my wet hair, I forced myself to relax.

It was, after all, only three in the morning. Silence hung thin and limply in the room, while the muffled call of crickets echoed faintly from the closed windows.

I got out of bed and went over to the windows, pushing the grime sleeked glass planes open. The room wasn't much, with its peeling wallpaper and creaky old bed, but it was all I could afford. A visit all the way to suburbia had cost way more than I expected.

In the silence of the night, my actions were starting to seem real silly. Ridiculous, even. I came all the way just because Meg said it would work? Who knows if it would really work? Why did I do such a big thing based on just another one of Meg's assumptions? Meg was just an average roommate, however supportive. She wasn't a psychologist. She didn't have any scientific proof behind what she said. So what will happen if it _didn't work_? What would I do then? _What would happen to me then?_

A dozen unanswerable questions flitted through my mind like irritating flies. I shook my head with frustration.

Of course, I knew clearly why I came here.

I was desperate.

I was desperate enough to jump at any signs of hope--even if it meant grasping at straws.

Insomnia was hunting me relentlessly. Every single night, I often found myself waking up drenched in sweat, trembling in fear, frightened beyond sense of something that happened ten years ago. When I was six.

It was pathetic.

I felt tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision, clouding my mind. How I wished I could cry like a little child again, snuggle up to mummy and cry out my grievances in her lap.

But it wasn't possible now.

Alone in a foreign city, standing beside a dirty, cracked, window frame, I felt stranded.

Looking at the abandoned mansion in the distance, its black silhouette outlined across the fogged-up night sky, the feeling of despair was overwhelming.

It was in that huge dark mansion which the kidnap took place. The place where I knew fear and desperation like I never known. The place where I nearly died, if not for the mysterious man who rushed out at the last minute and saved my life.

I often questioned.

_Who was that man? Why would he want to save me? Why did he wait till the last minute to reveal himself? What would have happened if he did not come out at all?_

The questions frightened me and just made me more confused. Sometimes I wondered if there had been no such person at all, that he was just a figment of my imagination. But if that was the case, then how did the monster die? The unanswered questions freaked me out, and returned to haunt me every night in my dreams.

But then Meg said I had to face those fears. She said I had to face them bravely and sort them out if I wanted to escape from the nightmares. If I kept evading the issue, then I would be trapped forever. It made sense at that time she told me. Looking into Meg's confident and assuring eyes, I had believed that it made perfect sense. That was the reason I decided to come here. It was my only hope, Meg said. I had to revisit the place of my fears. Alone. It was the only way to proof that I was no longer afraid of them. As long as I proved that, Meg said I would be completely free.

I took a deep breath, breathing in the frosty evening air of Suburbia.

I was already here; it was no use doubting my decisions in the first place. What mattered now was only steeling my determination, so that I can accomplish what I came here for in the first place. I took another deep breath, and felt myself calm down. Glaring at the mansion in the distance, I promised myself that I would visit the damned place the very next night.

I would get rid of my pointless fears once and for all.

For now, I had to catch up on my sleep, nightmares or not.


	3. The Garden

All right.

This was it.

Standing at the gate of the huge desolate mansion, I felt a tremor creep up my spine.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, mustering up courage.

This was it. This would be the last night those nightmares would ever haunt me. By tomorrow morning, I would be free. I would have defeated my fears and I would be free, free from nightmares, free to live my life the way I want to.

I breathed out slowly.

For that, I had to be brave tonight.

The chilly evening air felt like pine needles against my face and I felt a small nagging urge to run back to the motel.

Maybe I shouldn't have chosen to come here at night after all.

Well, I know the incident did happen at night, but maybe I should have faced my fears one smaller step at a time, like, maybe I should have came here in the morning instead?

When I could just see my path?

When it wouldn't be so bloody dark?

I sighed.

Bloody was not a good choice of word.

Flexing my fingers, I stared down at the soil beneath my feet. It was becoming hard to resist the temptation of walking away. All of a sudden, it was as though I could think of so many more reasons to not enter this mansion now. Anyway, it wouldn't hurt to come back in the morning. When the streets would not be so deserted. Where someone could hear me if I happen to land in some kind of danger.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, which were already becoming jumpy. I was being ridiculous. It was, after all, a _deserted _mansion. And already _cleaned up_ by the police after that incident. What danger could I possibly land in? Getting stuck in giant cobwebs? Getting tripped up by creaky old floorboards?

I rolled my eyes.

What was the big deal anyway? It was just going in and out of a stupid old mansion, right?

I flicked on my torch and clenched my jaw.

Reaching out an arm, I watched the pale flickering light of the torch dance over the length of my arm, making it seem pale and strange.

Feeling the bars of the heavy metal gate, I closed my fist around it and pushed. It was solidly heavy. Leaning my whole body forward, I pushed against it with all my strength.

The heavy gate creaked open slowly.

Hesitantly, I took a step forward, and the beam of light from my torch landed on a strange scaled shape. Peering closer, I saw that it was a huge tree carefully trimmed into the shape of a hand. Small dark leaves resting stiffly on their branches wrapped around the hand beautifully.

I gasped in surprise.

It looked so real. That shape of a half closed human hand… it looked way more real than any bonsai in those botanic gardens. Involuntarily, I approached the tree to get a better look at those careful trimmings. Despite the vivid shape, no single leaf was cut. Every small leaf lay whole and undisturbed on their branches. The person who did that must have spent so much time carefully shaping each and every branch. Man, that guy must have _loved _plants. Either that or he was obsessed with hands.

I laughed at the absurd thought.

On my last visit here, I didn't even notice this shape. But then again, I was carried in half-unconscious in a dirty cloth sack.

I grimaced.

That reminded me of my purpose again. I didn't come here to gawk at trees and flowers trimmed by some over-patient ancient guy who probably died years back. Flicking my torch around, I let out a shocked gasp.

In the large garden before the mansion, every single tree was carefully trimmed into birds, dancing ballerinas, and graceful reindeers.

Under the pale light of my torch, the garden seemed to come alive as the shadows skipped merrily about.

As I wandered deeper into the garden, the fairytale-like atmosphere almost brought a smile to my face, if not for the nagging suspension that something else here felt out of place.

It was as though a certain weirdness surrounded these trees, despite their pretty appearance. However much I tried, I simply could not shake off the suspicion that something was _very wrong_.


	4. The man in the mansion

Before long, I found myself standing on the top of the small hill, facing the huge old wooden door. The carvings on it were caked with dust, and it was left opened by just a few inches; a narrow space just wide enough for a person to squeeze through. Cobwebs stretched between the edge of the cracked wooden surface of the door and the dirty floor. I grimaced. It was as though the mansion was expecting me after all these years, leaving a gap for me to enter.

The beam from my torch made a slit of light onto the floor of the hall. Squeezing my way between the two large doors, I found myself standing in an abandoned hall, decorated only by the faded patches of moonbeam streaming in from the broken roof. The hall was exactly as I remembered. The weird dangerous machinery in the center, the peeling paint, the creaky floorboards, the dust… the darkness…. the fear.

I took a deep breath, feeling it grate down my throat like flour, dry and papery.

It was only an empty hall.

I clenched and unclenched my fingers, feeling sweat bead up on my forehead.  
I could still remember the corner where I had been forced to kneel, to beg, the hopeless fear that choked me with every slash of the whip, the doorway where the mysterious man appeared with the knives, then the sickening thud as the monster fell, blood spurting from his chest.

I felt my breathing quicken, hysteria growing inside me.

I couldn't stand it --the suffocating fear that was threatening to envelope me.

Forcing myself to calm down, I breathed out slowly.

"I'm not afraid." I told myself, which echoed back at me from the dusty corners of the hall.

It didn't sound very convincing.

Taking a deep breath, I tried again.

"I'm not afraid of you. I won't let myself. I won't be afraid of you." I told the mansion loudly.

_Snip._

I froze. That sound... did I really hear…

_Snip snip._

I felt panic explode inside me. Wasn't the mansion supposed to be _empty_? It was _abandoned_, I thought! Or… or was the monster still alive, lying in hiding all these years, _waiting_ for me? Was he _never killed_, but only escaped? Was that muffled sound of sharpening knives his way of telling me of his _presence_?

Thoughts ran wild as I felt myself starting to hyperventilate. Palms slick with sweat, I turned round and round hysterically, trying to find the corner where the monster was hiding.

Soft footsteps came steadily from the doorway on my right.

Unable to help it, I ran screaming into the doorway on my right, blindly crashing into another small dusty room. Hands shaking with fear, I grasped the doorknob and pushed the door closed behind me, trying desperately to lock the door before the monster arrived. A small click from the door told me that I managed to lock it, creating a temporary barrier between that monster and I.

Leaning heavily against the door, I panted breathlessly and felt dark spots circle my vision. If the monster were really out there, I cannot allow myself to be caught by him a second time. I must not panic or let myself faint, I must fight back. Clenching my fists, I made a shocking realization. It was so stupid of me to have not realized earlier. It was so obvious! That garden full of shapes had to be maintained by someone, didn't it? Someone must have been hiding here. Plants trimmed by someone who died ages ago wouldn't still look so neat, would it? They would have grown all over the place. Damned.

The soft footsteps grew louder, and finally, they stopped just outside the door.

"…Who are you?" A quiet voice from outside the door broke my chain of thoughts.

It sounded young, too young to be the monster. I frowned. This wasn't right.

_Snip snip._

"Are you Kim?" The voice asked, and it was as though I heard a glimmer of hope in the young voice. Now it was clear to me that it belonged to a guy. I frowned. It was clear that he was armed too.

Probably a criminal? A wanted man? A young drug addict?

Anyway, I had to make bargains with him if I wanted to escape alive. I clenched my jaw and replied in the most authoritative voice I could muster.

"No, but listen. I know you're hiding. And I know you don't want anyone to find you. So if you let me out of here unharmed, I won't tell anyone you're here."

_Snip.  
_  
"Oh…" The voice sounded soft, sad, and disappointed. Even the quiet clip of sharp knives oozed disappointment.

I frowned. He wasn't replying to my bargain. Was he sharpening his knife or something? Deep in thought, trying to figure how to catch me?

"How about it? You let me out of here, and we won't have anything to do with each other ever again." I prodded.

He paused for a long moment.

"Who are you?"

"That… doesn't matter." I stuttered.

"Do you know Kim?"

Confused, I shook my head, then realized that he couldn't see my reply.

"I missed her." The voice seeped sadness, and even though I couldn't see the man behind the door, I had a vague mental impression of watery, tears-filled eyes.

_Snip snip._

"I'm sorry, I don't know her." I didn't know why I was apologizing, but for a moment there, I nearly felt sympathy for the young man, the continuous snipping sounds starting to sound like a reflection of the voice's emotion.

"I've been waiting." He continued softly, as though he didn't hear my reply, "She didn't come."

I frowned. He sounded like… a little boy. Innocent. Hurt. But I couldn't detect the least bit of maliciousness in his voice. This was weird.

Overcome by curiosity, I asked, "Was she your girlfriend or something?"

"She was so much more." The sad reply came so faintly I almost couldn't hear it.

I felt goose bumps creep up my arm. Shrugging off the uncomfortable feeling, I looked for a way to bring up my bargain again. Somehow, mentioning it at this time seemed kind of mean.

"I waited… for years." His whisper carried through the door.

I frowned. _Years_? How could anyone stay here alone for _years_?

That was when I realized with a sickening feeling that the person whom I was talking to might not be who I had assumed him to be.

To stay here alone in this abandoned mansion for _years_?

_What the hell was he_?


End file.
